


untitled (how does it feel)

by sskkyyrraa



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slice of Life, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sskkyyrraa/pseuds/sskkyyrraa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What do I need to do? It's Sunday! The literal purpose of Sundays are to be lazy. It's in the Bible.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled (how does it feel)

**Author's Note:**

> there's a first time for everything! enjoy my first ever smut fic!

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Simmons says as Grif shuffles into the living room. He drops down on the couch and rests his head on Simmons' lap.

“God, I really hope it's not morning still,” Grif groans. He turns his face into Simmons' stomach, yawns wide, and shuts his eyes against the light.

“You're in luck. It's nearly one in the afternoon. I was starting to think you'd never wake up.”

“Not everyone wakes up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Otherwise it's too hot to work in the garden! Seven isn't dawn anyways. Plenty of people wake up to start their day bright and early. Try it some time, you'd be surprised how much you can get done.”

“What do I need to do? It's Sunday! The literal purpose of Sundays are to be lazy. It's in the Bible.”

“I don't think that's what you're supposed to get out of the passage,” Simmons says, but he's smiling. He's skimming through headlines on his phone and carding his fingers through Grif's hair. Grif rolls over onto his back and pulls out his own phone to play Angry Birds. “I'm resting now, does that count?”

“I guess. Did you go grocery shopping? We're out of eggs,” Grif says, more focused on getting three stars than anything Simmons has to say.

“Dammit, Grif! This is why we need to make a list! As a matter of fact I did go shopping. I got pancake mix and ranch dressing and carrots and cereal and mozzarella and ham and--”

“Simmons.”

“I didn't buy eggs.” Simmons sounds so disappointed with himself that Grif looks up from his game without pausing. He puts his phone down on the coffee table and sits up.

“Simmons, chill. It's fine. We can go to the store again. It's only one. First, I need food though,” Grif says patting Simmons' knee. Simmons visibly relaxes and nods. “Come on, we got a stocked fridge and I got an empty belly.”

Grif rifles through the freezer, pulling out raviolis and frozen peas. He glares at the peas before shoving them in the way back. Simmons leans against the counter, frowning at his phone. He groans and scrubs his hand over his face. Grif glances over guiltily but relaxes when he sees the frustration isn't aimed towards him.

“I forgot I promised Donut we'd visit,” Simmons says with a sigh. He types out something on his phone and looks over to Grif with a frown. Grif grins and throws the raviolis back into the freezer.

“Hell yeah! In that case I'll just get something to eat there. Let's go.”

“Not so fast, mister! Have you showered at all this weekend?” Simmons asks, grabbing Grif by the hem of his shirt before he can walk away. Grif rolls his eyes.

“Yes!Alright, no. But c'mon, it's just Donut!”

“Shower, now. Fresh clothes will be good for you. You've been in those sweats since Friday night.”

“Yes, _mom_.”

 

 

 

 

“Donut says to wear those jeans that make your ass look good. I agree, you should definitely wear those jeans,” Simmons says when Grif enters their bedroom. He's sitting on their bed, legs crossed, scrolling his phone and looking as casual as can be. Grif raises his eyebrow as he walks to his bureau.

“You talk about my ass a lot with Donut? Or is this a new thing?” he asks, pulling open drawers and throwing clothes to the side. 

“Eh, what can I say? It's Donut and you've got a nice butt,” Simmons says with a shrug. He leans back on his hands as Grif drops his towel. He watches with quiet appreciation as Grif gets dressed. Grif then saunters over and pushes Simmons' legs open, invading his space. He dips his head down, catching his lips in a kiss, a hand supporting himself on Simmons' thigh and the other arm thrown over his shoulder. Simmons pulls him closer by the hips, hands slipping into Grif's back pockets. The kiss that was supposed to be quick becomes languid with tongue.

“Wait!” Simmons says suddenly pulling back. Grif makes a frustrated noise. The kiss was just getting good with his fingers gripping Simmons' hair to tilt his head back, coaxing the kiss a little bit deeper, a little bit dirtier. “We can't do this right now. Donut's waiting, I already told him we were about to leave.”

“Okay, fine, so we'll be quick,” Grif mutters, lips pressed against Simmons' neck.

“Be serious. He's gonna--” Grif licks up Simmons' neck to his jaw, placing sweet kisses just behind his ear. Simmons gasps, falters and tries to stay on topic. “--gonna get all anxious and worried.”

“You're always so worried about Donut's feelings, what about _my_ feelings, Simmons?”

“Having a boner isn't the same as having emotions, Grif,” Simmons says but still he cranes his neck for Grif to have better access. His breathing slows while his heart pace quickens. Grif rolls his hips forward, laughs when Simmons whimpers, and proceeds to suck lightly on the side of his throat. “ _Grif_...”

“Just, chill out. What Donut doesn't know, won't hurt him,” Grif says resting his forehead against Simmons, looks him in the eye. “Now, do you want me to fuck you or _nah_?”

“You are such an asshole, you know that right?” Simmons says, kissing Grif hard. He melts when Grif cups his face gently in his hands. Simmons scoots backwards on the bed, refusing to break contact with Grif as he crawls after him. Grif pushes him onto his back, mouth at his throat again.

“Yeah, but I'm _your_ asshole,” Grif says, laughing. “Is that like, the least sexiest thing to say or what?”

“You're an idiot. I love you.” Simmons is unzipping the jeans that make Grif's ass look good. He gropes said ass, grinds his hips up against his boner while pushing his jeans down with his legs and feet. He manages to get the pants down to Grif's knees before giving up. Grif takes over, rocking back and kicking his jeans to the floor. He pulls off Simmons' shorts while shoving his shirt up to his armpits and nuzzles the soft hair above his briefs.

“I love you, too. Can you take this off? I don't want you to suffocate while I eat you out,” Grif says nudging Simmons' binder with his nose. Simmons' heart skips a beat.

“Jesus Christ, Grif,” he gasps out. He has to sit up to pull the binder up over his head. When he starts to fold it up, Grif knocks it out of his hands and palms his left breast, right nipple going straight in his mouth. “ _Fuck._ ”

Simmons wraps his long legs around Grif's waist and pulls him close, grinding their hips together. He grips the blanket and turns his head into the pillow. He tries to focus on evening his breathing as Grif's hand travels down his chest, his stomach, and barely skimming underneath the waistband of his boxers. Grif's fingers dip and ghost just along the top of the labia, where the lips touch. Simmons pulls Grif in with his legs, pushing his fingers just inside the fold, palm against his clit.

Grif moves to properly kiss Simmons, sliding his hand up to rub against his clit. Simmons rocks forward with a filthy moan. They kick off their underwear, pressing flush against each other. Their kisses are messy and broken with moans and gasps, utterances of names. Grif has two fingers deep inside Simmons, his thumb rolling against his clit and Simmons is pumping Grif's cock in an erratic rhythm.

Simmons is empty and he is whining. Grif sucks on the fingers that were just inside of Simmons, pushing Simmons' hand off his dick. He teases the head of his cock against Simmons' vagina but they're both so close he can't keep it up for long. He pushes forward, a pressure that fills Simmons, his grip tight on his hips. They're still for a moment, foreheads pressed together. It's stupidly cliché but Simmons feels his heart warm and he arches up for a kiss. Grif rolls his hips back and then snaps forward. They're close, so close now and there is no rhythm, just desperate thrusts.

Grif pins Simmons' hands above his head, threading their fingers together. He comes first, of course he does, but he does so with Simmons' name on his tongue and his body completely wrapped around Simmons'. Simmons follows soon after, riding out the tremors with his head tucked into Grif's neck. He's quiet, voice lost with the moment. Grif pulls out, which is as disgusting as it always is, but they lie holding hands in the after glow nonetheless.

Things are romantic and timeless in the early Sunday afternoon before a buzzing and bright light interrupts their after glow. Simmons bolts up, patting around the bed for his phone. Grif doesn't move except to fold his hands behind his head.

“Hello? Hey, Donut! Yeah, yeah, we're okay. I just, we just. We got caught up, lost track of time. We'll be-- what? No, I'm fine. I just rushed to get the phone and maybe I'm getting a cold? Everything is a-okay here at La Casa Simmons and Grif! Haha! Okay! We'll be there soon! Bye!”

“He totally knows, doesn't he?”

“I don't know how he does it! Every single damn time!” Simmons groans. He places his phone on his bedside table. Grif laughs, rolling over and throwing an arm across Simmons. Simmons frowns but doesn't move because the room is starting to cold from being naked.

“It's in your voice. You're the worst liar ever and you sound wrecked,” he says. He cuddles close and yawns. “Wanna take a shower?”

“God, I thought you'd never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr: lesbianwario  
> follow me on twitter: sskkyyrraa


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